


Drowning

by AcrobatElle



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Originally Posted on Tumblr
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-17
Updated: 2015-10-17
Packaged: 2018-04-26 19:25:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,108
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5017351
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AcrobatElle/pseuds/AcrobatElle
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Follow-up to "Just Us" and the second 5x04 sneak peek. Henry and Killian take Emma away from prying eyes as she struggles with the darkness.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Drowning

Whatever peace Emma was able to find in his arms is short-lived. Lying there with one hand on his hook and the other lightly grazing his fingers, the strongest woman he’s ever met looks utterly broken.

Killian has seen her physically exhausted before; his stomach still drops when he thinks of the state of her when they pulled her out of that bloody ice wall. But even then she was able to hug him fiercely, able to grip his hand so tightly his knuckles turned white, able to nod against his neck when he asked if she was all right.

Now her hand lies limply in his, her fingers a passive whisper against his skin.

He’s seen her in emotional pain as well; Henry’s kidnapping, her struggle with the power inside of her (her  _real_ power, not some bloody  _curse_ ), the betrayal of her parents. But she was still able to kiss the life out of (and back into) him, able to embrace her abilities, able to listen to his reassurances and find forgiveness.

Now she looks straight through him when her eyes meet his, a shell of her former self.

He’s seen her when she’s hurting but never anything quite like this, strung out too thin from her lack of respite, exhausted willpower, and the voice of the bloody Crocodile tormenting her every waking moment. He’d endured thoughts of the man (the  _demon_ ) for hundreds of years, but being actively taunted without a way to be rid of him… Killian can’t imagine a worse form of torture. But if anyone ever deserved it was  _him_ , not her.

And the worst – the  _worst_  – is that he’s at an utter loss of how to help. His touch and his words, always so reliable, seem to desert him now.

_Excellent show of patience, love._

_You can do this._

_I’ve seen the power inside you._

_No matter what the bloody Evil Queen says to you, Swan, don’t ever forget that you returned an orphaned child to his mother._

_Aye, me. And I, you._

He dimly hears Regina admonishing her parents in the background, but he knows Emma isn’t processing their words either. He’s not sure if it’s better or worse for her that she’s shut herself off so much.

And so when Henry offers a solution, however temporary and potentially useless, he jumps on it. Emma gets up and walks as if in a fog, stepping away from him before he can put his arm around her back. He keeps his distance as her son takes them out of the castle, two paces behind her as Henry deftly leads them outside the castle walls and away from the prying eyes of Camelot. What has the boy been up to to be so confident in his steps?

It’s not a long walk, all told. A few fields and a short trail through the woods gets them to their destination quickly enough: a small cottage surrounded by willow trees, the moonlight casting a ghostly glow over the place. Henry mumbles something about  _abandoned recently_  and  _Violet showed me_  as he leads them inside, the click of the door unspeakably loud in the front room.

“There’s a few bedrooms,” Henry says, “Mom, do you….”

“I’m pretty tired, kid,” she says, and Killian jolts at the sound of her voice after so much silence. Something in his heart jumps at seeing her trying for the boy, despite everything. “I think I just want to go to bed.”

Henry points in the direction of a bedroom and is pulled into a tight hug by his mother, a second sign of life that stops Killian‘s breath.

“I love you, kid.”

“Love you too, Mom.”

She lingers in Henry’s arms for a moment before turning down the hallway without looking at Killian, but before he can follow he’s stopped by a hand gripping his arm.

“Take care of her, okay?”

Henry’s words are nearly inaudible but his eyes are fierce, and for the first time Killian looks at him and no longer sees a child. A sudden surge of completely unearned  _pride_ flares through him, and for the second time tonight he finds himself without words.

“We’ll get her back,” Henry whispers, his words intense, and Killian finally registers that there is a man who loves Emma Swan even more than he does.

If there is anything that will get Emma through this, it is the fact that she is so,  _so_ loved. The thought allows Killian to finally breathe.

“Aye, lad.” He manages a smile and claps his hand to Henry’s shoulder before turning down the hall.

The bedroom is slightly musty but otherwise clean, and Emma has already removed her dress and stands only in a thin silk chemise when Killian enters. He’s barely shut the door when she crosses the room and buries her face into his chest, her arms sliding around his waist and pulling him in tight.

His hand slides into her hair, gently cradling the back of her head. “How are you feeling, love?”

“Better.” The word is muffled against his chest and she turns her head, her cheek pressed to the hollow of his throat.

“Is… is he still here?”

“No,” she answers immediately, and he tries not to make his relieved exhale too obvious. “It helps. Having you and Henry around.”

“I’m glad, love.”

“You don’t have to drown him out,” she says quietly. ‘Just you being here. It makes him go away.”

“I won’t leave you.”

Her head snaps up at that, her body still pressed to his. “I know you won’t.”

_Try something new, darling. It’s called trust._

Her eyes, so empty all night, are finally alight as they simply look at one another, swaying slightly as they always do in one another’s arms. She leans up and brushes her lips over his, her warmth crawling up his spine and settling into his bones. “Why are you so good to me?”

He smiles, brushes his thumb over her chin. “Because I love you.“

The words fly out of him completely uninhibited. He’d wanted to hold them back until they weren’t in mortal peril, when it could be easy and natural and _them_ , but he selfishly needs her to hear them. To her credit, she doesn’t react with astonishment, because she’d known, of  _course_ she’d known. Her forehead drops to his but she doesn’t speak, a tiny smile on her face as she breathes him in like he’s the only thing holding her together.

He knows he very well might be. He loves and hates the responsibility.

She falls asleep in his arms, if only for a little while.

**Author's Note:**

> You can find me at acrobat-elle.tumblr.com. Come say hi!


End file.
